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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29826465">grinning and grumpy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magali_Dragon/pseuds/Magali_Dragon'>Magali_Dragon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sports, Drabble and a Half, F/M, Fluff without Plot, Grumpy Jon Snow, Hockey, Short One Shot, a fic inspired by Ted Lasso? Of course, bubbly dany</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:34:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,891</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29826465</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magali_Dragon/pseuds/Magali_Dragon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon Snow is a grouchy, old, reluctant leader on the Winterfell Wolves— Westeros Hockey’s worst team— and will certainly not admit he likes the team’s PR executive Daenerys Targaryen (especially since she was dating his teammate). But when she is available, does he make his move?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>223</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>grinning and grumpy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moggett/gifts">Moggett</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hiya I’m supposed to quit but lbr that may not be happening as I am finding some fun in writing again, even though I still get down moments where it is no longer fun.</p><p>Anyways, this little fic (not QUITE a drabble) is plotless and is a gift for Moggett who is a consistent commenter and fan and with whom I have had a lot of great conversations! I wanted to write an AU of “Bringing Up Baby” but time permitting I hope this suffices!</p><p>It is inspired by a Big Jonerys Energy couple from Ted Lasso, Roy and Keeley, aka a Grouch and a Cute Girl, which is the superior ship.  I made Jon a hockey player though. </p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Jon had a headache.</p><p>It started at the base of his skull and had now wrapped its demonic arms around his temples, flattening its fiery hands onto his forehead, burning pain straight through, throbbing throughout his entire body. Every muscle ached, like they usually did these days, and it served to make him grouchier than he normally was. They called him the White Wolf for a variety of reasons, but lately the murmurs around him were just calling him 'wolf.' Because he was snapping at them and biting their heads off, apparently.</p><p>Good riddance, these fucking new guys, hopped up on fame and fortune, didn't give a shit about the sport itself. They had no idea that one day it would all disappear and they wouldn't be the face of the team, they would just be 'that old guy', or what was it the media called him the other day? <em>Legacy</em>. They'd be <em>legacy</em>.</p><p>Bloody fucking hells, he was only thirty-fucking-five.</p><p>He pressed his fingers into the pulse points near his eyes, staving off another impending icepick sensation into his skull, but it didn't help. Probably becaues fucking Daario was complaining onc eagain about being on a shitty team when he could have been anywhere and the minute his contract was up, he was going straight to the Westerlands Lions, because they were actually a good fucking team and weren't bottom of ht eleague.</p><p>"Oi!" he exclaimed, his Northern accent harsh when he was angry, silencing everyone. He jabbed a finger in the air towards Daario, who lazily peered in his direction. "Shut hte fuck up about leaving this team or you'll be leaving a lot earlier than palnned."</p><p>Daario smirked. "Good," he sneered. "Get me the fuck out of here."</p><p>Jon grinned, dark. "Oh no mate, you won't be walking when you leave." He stood, slamming his locker shut, the metal rusted on the edge, like he was these days, and stalked across the locker room to the therapy room. As he did, he ran into a bright, shiny, rainbow-colored object bursting through the door.</p><p>The object bounced off his bare chest, teetering on sky-high heels, and fucking <em>giggled</em>. It made his head hurt more. He stiffened, instantly noting who it was. The last person he wanted to see when the Wolves had been trounced by the fucking Raiders who did not even have a practice rink on their bloody Iron Islands, but had to play in the bloody North. In <em>their</em> territory. They hadn't even gotten one bloody goal.</p><p>Might have gotten one, if Daario hadn't been showing it up for the cameras in the penalty box, after he purposefully got thrown there so he didn't have to play when the Raiders sent out one of their massive defensemen. Daario couldn't handle getting his face messed up, it upset his modeling contracts, he complained. Jon wondered why he'd fucking taken up hockey as a sport, especially for someone from bloody Essos, where the sun shone twenty of hte twenty-four hours a day and ther ewas no ice to be hear dof.</p><p>Regardless, they'd lost, he was furious, hurting, and he wanted to drown himself in the ice bath, but nope, <em>she</em> had to appear. The bane of his existence. The reason he wanted to just break his bloody neck and never come off the ice. The thing that came from Essos, who ruined his life, made him hate Daario more than he already did, and really, just really, needed to get hte bloody fuck away right now.</p><p>
  <em>Daenerys.</em>
</p><p>She beamed up at him, her violet-- who the fuck had purple eyes?-- sparkling, her silver hair-- again, who the fuck had silver hair?-- braided into a complicated style, soft curls of it left free to frame her face and bounce off her shoulders, which were bare, because she was wearing a sparkling silver tank with blue pants with her sky-high heels. She held onto her matching blue jacket in one hand, clutching her phone in another.</p><p>"Hi Jon!" she exclaimed. Her bright, beaming face morphed into one of concern. "I'm so sorry, are you alright? I need to really look where I'm going most days." Her Valyrian accent was like music to his ears, sick of hearing the Northern burrs of most of his teammates. She waved her phone in her hand. "Good news! I got the Crownlands Weekly to agree to a feature article on the team! It is going to be brilliant!"</p><p>Before he could even curse her out for daring to think that he wanted a weekly publication to highlight the shitty team, she reached one of her small hands-- her nails were painted alternating colors of white, silver, and blue for the team colors, he noted-- to his shoulder, her mouth falling open. "Oh Jon! Your shoulder!"</p><p>"It's fine," he gruffed, barely noticing the black and blue bruise. It matched the one on his left hip, the one on his right arm and the fading ones along his right side from the game a couple days ago.</p><p>"It is not fine, you need to get the trainer to look at it."</p><p>Since Sam was their trainer and Sam was afraid of Daario, he'd have to go search him out and he didn't want to do that just yet. He shook his head, his headache throbbing harder at the movement. "It's fine," he repeated.</p><p>"Babe!"</p><p>A disgusted look crossed Dany's face. He arched a brow-- that was a new development. She made a face and turned her head, shouting at Daario. "Fuck off!" Jon's eyebrows now were embedded in his hairline, his heart leaping into his throat. Oh wow, a new development indeed. She marched away from him towards Daario, who was standing in the center of the locker room, a towel around his hips, hands out to the side, grinning at her. "You dare to talk to me after what you did?"</p><p>"Did what?"</p><p>Dany grabbed hold of a stray hockey stick and tried to take Daario out at the knees, but between the extra-long stick which belonged to the massive defenseman Tormund, the six-inch high heels, and her righteous anger, she thankfully missed and teetered to the side, saved from falling on her ass by Tormund, who lifted her clear off the ground. "Careful there Dragon Queen!" he boomed. "Might hurt yourself!"</p><p>"Put me down! I need to kill him!"</p><p>"Not today you ain't."</p><p>"I didn't do anything!" Daario shouted, as Dany launched into Valyrian curses, trying to punch and hit him. He dodged away, laughing. "It was just flirting!"</p><p>"It was flirting when you woke up in her <em>FUCKING BED</em>!?"</p><p><em>Uh oh.</em> Jon leaned against the doorway, amused, wondering why anyone was preventing her from attacking the prick. He hated Daario for a variety of reasons. This was just one more, he supposed. He ran his tongue over his teeth, watching Daario try to avoid Dany, who was now throwing bits of padding and gloves at him. Tormund had dropped her when she jabbed an elbow into his gut. He glanced sideways at movement beside him, noting their coach had approached. Davos was gaping, horrified. "What is happening?" he asked.</p><p>Jon sighed. "Daario cheated on Dany, doesn't think he did anything wrong by the looks of it, and well, no one's stopping her for a reason."</p><p>Davos sighed, rubbing his forehead. "It's why thi steam is where it is. None of you trust each other."</p><p>"Can't do Coach, not with Daario looking out for number one." They were a terrible team because no one trusted each other, that was what Davos kept saying, and while Jon did believe it, he didn't think they could ever trust each other out there. Not when Daario was a puck-hog, preferring to be in the papers than on the ice, even if he was a good player.</p><p>"Is anyone going to stop her?"</p><p>"Nope."</p><p>Jon walked away, smiling at the sound of Daario's girlish scream, as a very angry dragon-- Dany loved dragons-- apparently made connection with him, her fist finding its mark in Daario's eye. He climbed up into the ice bath, hissing as the frozen water covered him from the neck down, his aching muscles protesting, the bruises cooling. He closed his eyes, a happy smile flirting about his lips.</p><p>Until he realized....his eyes sprang open. He couldn't. It wouldn't be right. He hated Daario. Everyone did, but...there was a teammate thing. A code of sorts. He was supposed to be the team Captain-- he could kill Davos for making him so last year. He flexed his right hand, a nervous tic he had had since he was a boy, over and over again under the icy water.</p><p>Dany was their public relations manager. It wouldn't be right. It would be a PR nightmare and he hated those. He hated the press. He hated anything that had to do with making the team look good. All he wanted to do was play hockey and he was closing in on a day when that may no longer be possible.</p><p>Dany was Daario's-- apparently now ex-- girlfriend. It would destroy team morale and camaraderie. Not that there was much of that to begin with, but it was back to that damned code thing again.</p><p>Dany was always cheerful, bubbly...happy. It disgusted him. She could find the good in anything, when honestly what was the point? She was supposed to make the worst team in the league look good and she did her best, but she couldn't make miracles. Still, she had them doing community service events, interviews, photo shoots, and last week she had him go to a bunch of young hockey player clubs and teach kids how to ice skate.</p><p>He couldn't like Dany.</p><p>Even if he did, he couldn't do anything about it.</p><p>"Jon!"</p><p>Her high accented voice called into the therapy room. He held his breath and dunked under the water, hoping beyond hope she'd just go away.</p><p>Because dating Daenerys Targaryen was out of the bloody question and he should just stop thinking about that thank you very much.</p><p>After a moment, his lungs straining for air, his body so cold his heart rate had likely slowed to nothing, he emerged, gasping. He scrubbed his face, shaking his long, curly dark hair out of his eyes, sweeping it back. As he did, he caught sight of writing on the dry erase board beside the tub that hadn't been there when he'd dunked himself.</p><p>
  <em>Feel better Jon! Also, call me, I need to talk to you! -DT-</em>
</p><p>Jon heard Sam coming and took another breath, drowning himself back under the ice water.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>"How did you know those words?"</p><p>"What words?"</p><p>"The words to <em>Frozen</em>!"</p><p>"I didn't know the words."</p><p>Try as he might to continue protesting, Dany knew the truth. She knew that big ole' grouchy-puss Jon Snow, the King in the North, the White Wolf, multiple MVP, two-time Aegon Cup champion when the Wolves were in their heyday, and voted by the press more than twenty times as "Grumpiest Player Ever to be Interviewed", well he knew every single word to the most annoying song of all time, "Let it Go" from a Disney princess movie.</p><p>"You did so know all the words."</p><p>"No I didn't," he tried to keep saying, but she saw that tiny smile flirting at the corners of his lips, the way he glanced away, his hands shoved into his pockets. The black suit he wore was very nice; black was his color, after all.</p><p>It was because of his niece, she thought, thinking of the little girl who sometimes popped into the rink or offices, a little sprite who had dark curls and bright gray eyes, looking at the spitting image of her uncle-- who pretended he hated her, but he secretly loved her to pieces. The black evening gown she wore felt rather tight all of a sudden and she lifted the skirt, so she didn't trip.</p><p>She spun on her heels, almost falling backwards-- she might have had a bit too much to drink at the charity gala that evening-- laughing and gripping the front of his black overcoat, her knuckles white as she held tight, leaning forward into him. He smelled like whiskey, cigarettes, and cinnamon spice, she thought briefly, her eyes falling to his sinful lips, which he wet briefly, tongue darting out.</p><p><em>Gods I want to kiss him</em>, she thought, her breath catching in her throat. It had been a hell of a night, the gala had been an auction of sorts, the team in attendance for good PR, each one coming out to show off the items up for auction. It was for the children's hospital, the new orthopedic wing, and she had browbeat every one of the grouchy arseholes to attend, or else she'd start auctioning them off. Only Tormund had been alright with that.</p><p>When the gala concluded, they'd escaped to a nearby pub for a few after-dinner drinks, but it had been karaoke night, so of course one drink turned to ten, and she'd gotten up on stage to belt out Blondie songs and lo' and behold, Jon fucking Snow knew the lyrics to Let it Go. He also had a good voice, she thought, teetering closer to him. It had been a lot of fun, she loved the guys. She knew they were only in the tank because of Daario-- he ruined the morale-- so hopefully they'd overcome it whenever he left.</p><p>And she also knew that Jon had to step up; she could see it, the natural leadership ability within him, but he struggled, because he didn't want to do it. He wanted to play hockey, but he was facing facts. His body wasn't meant to last as long as it was, getting battered and beaten like he was each time he was on the ice. He was a good leader, she thought, even tonight, coaxing even the shyest among the lads to sing and be part of the group. Glaring them all into submission at the gala.</p><p>"Hmm," she murmured, stepping backwards, towards the entrance to her townhouse. She fumbled with her clutch, her keys jangling. She lifted them up, wagging them before him. "This is my place."</p><p>"I gathered," he replied drolly.</p><p>She giggled, pushing closer against him, murmuring. "You know you could have told me."</p><p>"Told you what?"</p><p>"That you liked me." It was the drink talking, she thought. Too many gin and tonics, the last few way too light on the tonic. It caused loose lips and the synapses between her brain and mouth were nonexistent. Dany continued, her inner voice screaming at her to JUST SHUT UP, but she couldn't, she was already full steam ahead. She looped her arm around his neck, dragging him towards her, mumbling. "You like me, but Daario was your teammate and now...well I liked you too."</p><p>He frowned, an arm around her waist, keeping her upright. "You're drunk Dany."</p><p>"I'm thinking clearly."</p><p>"You were dating Daario, it's not my business..."</p><p>"I broke up with him," she murmured, her nose brushing over his. She giggled, holding tight to his coat, her knees buckling slightly. She sighed, closing her eyes, inhaling his warm, manly scent. "Hmm....I broke up with him because I like you and I don't like him and he cheated on me and...and I cheated too."</p><p>"Dany..."</p><p>She pointed to her head, letting go of him and tripping over to the gate in front of the steps leading up to her house. "In my head," she said, tapping her temple. She wagged her finger at him. "I thought of you. I like you."</p><p>He helped her up the stairs to the house and inside. When she had dropped her coat, bag, and kicked off her heels, she moved to say goodnight, that she would be fine, he could just leave, but he was wrapped around her, and she was falling back against the wall, groaning at the contact, his mouth crashing over hers. She moaned, holding onto him for dear life, fingers grasping in his hair, clutching the soft curls escaping from the pretentious little bun he'd pulled it into that evening, and tried to kiss back, but he was quick. He plundered her mouth, pressed her hard against him, and when she opened up underneath him, he was already pulling away.</p><p>Stunned, she let go, sobered up and blinking at him.</p><p>"Good night Dany."</p><p>Dany gaped, arms out to her sides, her feet pointed inwards, frozen in place, as Jon Snow walked out the front door and pulled it shut behind him, not saying another word.</p><p>She touched her fingers to her lips; did that just happen? Was she really so drunk she imagined that entire thing? Or was it...it was real? She could no longer hold herself up and slipped down to the floor.</p><p>
  <em>What the bloody fuck Jon Snow?</em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>He kissed her. He fucking kissed her. Gods damnit.</p><p>Jon paced back and forth in front of the townhouse, hands running back and forth through his hair. He squeezed his right hand nervously when he wasn't tearing at his curls, wearing a tread in the pavement in front of Dany's house.</p><p>It had been two days since the gala, since he <em>kissed</em> her.</p><p>Kissed his teammate's ex-girlfriend, the team's public relations executive, the team's....mascot? Was she kind of a mascot? She kind of was. She was at every single game, cheering them on, doing her job of course, but it was more than that. She <em>cared</em>. She showed up with Daario, from Essos, but she had become the Wolves' biggest fan, even when her boyfriend could have cared less about the team, wanting nothing more than to get out. But she didn't. She had a house here. She cared.</p><p>And he cared about her.</p><p>And he bloody fucking hated it. Why couldn't he have <em>not</em> developed feelings for Dany? Life would be so much easier if he had just ignored it and went and found some other woman. Fuck, he should go clal his ex. Get a fuck out of the way and be done with it.</p><p>But nope.</p><p>It was Dany.</p><p>"Fuck," he shouted, cursing and kicking at the iron gate.</p><p>"What did my gate do to you?"</p><p>He turned, eyes wide, staring at Dany, who was on the curb in front of him, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and her keys in the other. She looked like she had just come from a workout, her tiny body in bright pink leggings and running shoes, silver braids pulled back and wearing some sort of puffer coat that was bloody <em>purple.</em> He scowled at her, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "Do you shop at a kid's store? You look like it."</p><p>"I do actually, do you shop there too? Your jeans are a little too snug." she sipped her coffee and he drew back. She always had a response to him. Everyone ran away, scared of the White Wolf, but not her. She cocked her head, one of her braids falling over her shoulder. "What's up Jon?"</p><p>"Um...nothing."</p><p>"Okay. Can you move? I want to get inside."</p><p>He took a deep breath, turning on his heel and shouting, hands outstretched. "I kissed you!"</p><p>Dany pushed open the gate and looked up at him, her face rather impassive. She shifted on her feet. "I...I know. I was there."</p><p>"I wanted to kiss you, so I did."</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>He stumbled, not good at this sort of thing. Only Dany made him like this. Made him fumble like a green boy, asking out the first girl he had a crush on. He pushed his hands to his chest. "I'm a bloody famous hockey player and...and I can get any girl I want."</p><p>"I know you can."</p><p>"But I don't...don't want them." He hadn't in years. They did nothing for him anymore. He shifted again, tugging his bottom lip under his top teeth, furrowing his brow. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "I...I like you and...and I know you and Daario...."</p><p>"I broke up with him like two months ago, Jon."</p><p><em>What?</em> He blinked, taken aback by that admission. Dany sipped her coffee and shrugged, nonchalant. "I dumped him two months ago. I should have done it sooner, honestly. Bloody egotistical prick. I just...I found out about the cheating <em>after</em> I dumped him and that's why I ran after him like a week ago. In the locker room." She lifted her brows, smirking. "And...you kissed me. That was..."</p><p>"I was drunk," he lied. Anything to save face at this point. They both knew it was a lie, he wasn't drunk. Maybe she was a little tipsy, maybe that was why he kissed her, hoping she'd forget it, but she hadn't. It could ruin everything. Or it could...be the start of something. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat strangling him. This wasn't something he got all knotted up over, but here he was, on her doorstep, fumbling through things like <em>feelings</em>.</p><p>She cocked her head, the smirk pulling over her teeth. She laughed. "Sure Jon, you were drunk, alright." <em>Thank gods, she knows I'm lying</em>, he thought.</p><p>"No, I wasn't drunk."</p><p>"No, you weren't." She took a deep breath, gesturing towards her door. "Do you want to come in?"</p><p>If he went in, he was scared he might do something he would regret. Like kissing her again, before they had talked. Or maybe more. He shook his head hard, digging his fingernails into his palms, shoving them so deep into his jeans they might as well have been falling down over his hips; if they weren't so tight of course. "I don't think that's a good idea...we should...go slow."</p><p>Dany nodded, agreeing. She turned and set her coffee and keys down on the stoop, walking back out to join him on the sidewalk. She took a deep breath and reached up, her hands soft, gentle on his face, and she rose on her toes, lightly brushing her mouth over his. <em>Gods, she tastes like rainbows and sunshine</em>, he thought, kissing her back. It was so achingly sweet, he reached for her again, his arms wrapping around her, drawing her to his chest. She exhaled, pulling back, and took another deep breath, lifting her sparkling eyes up to meet his. "I know you want to talk and maybe take it really slow, but like...if you want to...to come inside and maybe...I don't know...you can touch my arse and...I can touch yours?"</p><p>He laughed, high and loud, a sound no one ever equated with Jon Snow, the White Wolf, the King in the North. He lifted his hand to cup her face, and his other he dropped down, resting over her spandex clad pink bottom. "You can touch my arse."</p><p>"Oh good," she laughed. She planted both of her hands on his arse, squeezing and grinning. "I always wanted to touch it. It's famous, you know. Has a whole calendar devoted to it."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"I'll tell you later." She kissed him again and he was grateful, letting go of her arse long enough to hold her against him, until she pulled back, stepping to her house. "Do you want to come in? We can at least...talk this out maybe?"</p><p>"Only talking." That was all he could do right now. They did need to figure this out. He followed her up and into her house, staring around at the bright colors, the yellow kitchen, the pink living room, and his eyes burned, so many colors clashing, but it all <em>worked</em>. He sat down on the couch, awkward, and she came to sit beside him, lifting up a fluffy pink pillow and setting it in her lap. She grinned at him and took another-- it looked like some sort of strange Muppet skin-- planting it in his lap.</p><p>"There," she said. "Something fluffy to hold while we talk."</p><p>He gingerly pushed a finger into the furry pink thing. "Is this a dead animal?"</p><p>"It's a pillow, Jon."</p><p>"If you say so." He held the pillow to his chest, glancing sideways, his lips forming a tight smile. She grinned back, leaning her head on her hand, pressing into the back of the couch. He shifted, resting his head on the cushion behind him. His hand stretched out and covered her knee; she was very warm. He closed his eyes, quiet. "I'm not good at these sorts of things."</p><p>"Me either."</p><p>"I mean...Daario is a teammate."</p><p>"I know."</p><p>"But I...I like you." <em>There, i said it.</em> He swallowed hard, eyes fluttering open, and she had leaned in closer. He furrowed his brow, trying to save face. "But you...you have a lot of bright colors here."</p><p>Dany beamed. "I do. You could use some bright color in your life, Jon."</p><p>"Like you?" he retorted.</p><p>She grabbed hold of the collar of his jacket, pulling him towards her, and murmured, before crashing her mouth over his. "Like me."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The game had been hard fought and hard won, but Dany knew that didn't matter in the end to Jon.</p><p>She waited for everyone to leave; Davos to give his inspiring post-game speech, Daario to blame someone else for a fuckup and storm away, Tormund to make an inappropriate joke and flash them, and the others to finish what they were doing. Grenn, Pyp, Edd all smiled at her politely as they trickled out, as Sam the trainer, and their kit man Satin, who paused on his way out the door, lightly touching her arm, his voice soft. "He's better than expected."</p><p>"Thank you Satin," she said softly, kissing his cheek and patting his arm, letting him leave. The team knew that she had a way with their White Wolf, even if many still weren't sure just how close they had gotten. There had been a few paparazzi photos, but none to suggest it was anything beyond the PR head meeting with the team's most famous-- and most anti-PR-- player.</p><p>The door shut and she approached slowly, her coat in her hands, walking over towards the bench, where Jon sat, still in his skates. She tugged on the bottom of her jersey; number 99, SNOW. Even in Essos, when Daario had played for the Myr Manticores, and they first started dating, she hadn't worn his jersey, preferring to keep a distance between the PR head and the players. They didn't know it, but she got the job in the North to help turn the Wolves around, Daario had followed and stupidly got himself into a contract he couldn't get out of.</p><p>And since she landed in Winterfell a year ago, she had been fascinated by one Jon Snow.</p><p>They were so incompatible. The grinning girl and the grumpy grouch, they might as well call them, probably would once the press got wind of their relationship. Except they were compatible, she thought, approaching him. He flicked his gaze up to her and said nothing. She sat down next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder, her arms slipping around his, and her hand folding over his, sandwiching it between hers.</p><p>He rested his head against hers, threading his fingers through hers and squeezing hard. Dany lifted her face, meeting his gaze again. She smiled slowly. "When you get out of your skates and pads, do you want to take me home? Maybe feel me up a little?"</p><p>It had the desired effect, a snort escaping him. "Maybe more than that," he whispered.</p><p>"You are the best player on this team." She knew that in her heart; he was the leader, the heart of the team. Davos had done wonders on him to get him to see that. She continued, before he could interrupt. "And you guys won today. You're turning it all around, they would not be able to do that without you. Whether you are on the ice or not, they need you Jon." She leaned over him, lightly touching his right arm, which was in a sling. There would be more tests to determine the severity, but for now they were operating under the belief he had torn some ligaments, in a terrible crash between him and Jamie Lannister of the Lions.</p><p>He smiled gently, whispering. "How is it that you make me forget?"</p><p>"Forget what?"</p><p>"Everything." He brushed his nose against hers. She smiled, shrugging, chalking it up to just how good they were. He sighed. "You make me not hate the world."</p><p>"There's nothing to hate, Jon. It's just the world."</p><p>"Aye, it's a shitty place."</p><p>"It's full of possibilities." She wrinkled her nose, whispering, still grinning. "And I know you know that. Come on." She patted his knee. "Let's get you outta those skates, cleaned up, and back to my place."</p><p>"Your place?"</p><p>"Hmm, I think you need some color in your life tonight, none of those drab grays." She smiled wider, arching her brow. "And I already had your sister drop Ghost at my place anyway."</p><p>He laughed. "You just knew I'd be staying there, huh?"</p><p>"Well of course you will."</p><p>After he had cleaned up; she helped him in the shower of course, careful of his damaged arm, and he had dressed, they left the locker room, and made their way towards one of the side exits, just in case there were still photographers lingering around the main exit where the players left. Dany checked her phone, hearing it buzz in her pocket. She let go of Jon's arm, letting him go ahead, and checked the text from one of her sources at WSPN-- Westeros Sports Network.</p><p>
  <em>They want Jon, know he's at side exit, just FYI.</em>
</p><p>"Jon!" she exclaimed, but it was too late, he'd already pushed open the door, to be assaulted by cameras, who also happened to see her there, wearing his jersey and carrying his gym bag. She froze and made to take his arm, to bring him back into the arena, but to her surprise, Jon reached his hand back and took hers, tugging her forward and against him.</p><p>Hands clasped, reaching around her waist, he clutched her to his side and pressed ahead, ignoring the calls of the few reporters there for a comment on his 'season ending injury', one even daring to refer to it as a 'career ender.' It took a moment, until someone spotted how close they were, and began to ask questions about them, their relationship, and if she just went through hockey players like water.</p><p>Flinching at the insinuation, she let Jon lead her away and towards his car, one of the security guards providing extra assistance, breaking away from the throng. She paused outside of his car, still holding his bag, and he fumbled with his keys, unlocking it. It was a sleek black SUV, something that could probably fly to space if given the right engine.</p><p>"What?" he asked, gesturing. "Get in. I can still drive left-handed."</p><p>"Um, that's not what I'm on about, but no you are not driving, give me those keys." She walked around and snagged the keys, ordering him to the passenger side. He made a fuss, but let her get her way, climbing in and waiting for her to join. She slammed the door and sat in the driver's side a moment, glancing sideways. He was fussing with his seatbelt. "You didn't care," she blurted.</p><p>Jon didn't look over. "Hmm?"</p><p>"You didn't care about the reporters, about being seen with me." She pulled at her jersey, pointing. "You didn't even care that I am wearing your jersey and I even put sparkles on it." She actually didn't put sparkles on it, it was leftover confetti from one of the confetti guns that had gone off fright by her in the owner's box when they won.</p><p>He eventually lifted his eyes, meeting hers. He shrugged, quiet. "So?"</p><p>"Jon." She wasn't sure what pod person had replaced her big ole' grouch. She laughed. "You...you wanted to be seen? With me?"</p><p>"Why wouldn't I Dany?" He smiled, vaguely, quiet. "You're my...girlfriend...I think?"</p><p><em>Girlfriend.</em> It sounded so official like that. To her they'd just kind of been jumping between each other' shouses, but...she had met Arya, his sister and Gendry his brother-in-law. Their daughter Edwina, or Winnie as she went by. He'd spent more nights at her place, under her pink sheets than at his house. There was the fact that he almost assaulted a paparazzi when he thought they were being tailed, before she convinced him it was fine.</p><p>And he had let her help him when he was hurt.</p><p>He liked her. And she liked him.</p><p>She <em>loved</em> him.</p><p>He swallowed hard, mumbling. "I told you I don't do well at this stuff. I'm not sure...I...my career ight be done tonight Dany."</p><p>"Jon, no..."</p><p>"No, let me just..." He huffed, closing his eyes, his hand going around to cradle his bad arm to his chest. He glanced sideways, meeting her gaze again, his gray eyes intense, serious. "I love you. I think I have for a long time. You...you're just...I was..."</p><p><em>Scared.</em> Her eyes crinkled up, smile breaking over her face. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, burning hot. "Yeah?"</p><p>"Aye, I love you." He glanced away, frowning. "And I bloody hate feeling like this."</p><p>"I know you do." That loss of control, she bloody well hated it too. She leaned over and mindful of his arm, kissed him softly, their foreheads pressing together momentarily. She smiled wider. "Hey Jon?"</p><p>"Hmm?"</p><p>"I love you too." She kissed him before he could say anything, breaking away only when her arse hit the horn, laying on it long enough to startle the photographers in the distance and some of the security staff. Flushing, she fell back into the seat, and giggled, punching the ignition and throwing the car into gear. "Come on, let's go back to my place. I can help rewrap your arm."</p><p>"Alright, but nothing funny. Or pink."</p><p>"Of course not!"</p><p>Even so, a few hours later, with his arm propped on a fuzzy pink pillow with a bright teal dragon-shaped ice pack on it, he didn't complain, cuddled up beside her, sleeping peacefully. She did some work, ignoring the requests for comment on the new relationship between the Wolves' PR exec and their oldest and most famous player.</p><p>Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, alerting her to a text. It was rather late, she thought, scowling at it, annoyed if it was a reporter who somehow got her personal number. Only her sources had it.</p><p>It was from his sister, who had relayed his niece's words.</p><p>"The Girl and the Grouch!" Arya texted, complete with a photo from a sports blog of Jon pushing someone into the boards during hte game and her in his jersey, jumping up and down in the stands.</p><p>Dany laughed, setting the phone down and kissed his brow. He mumbled, burrowing closer to her. She patted his arm. She'd get him grinning soon enough.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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    <b>fin.</b>
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